


A red carpet date

by orphan_account



Category: British Actor RPF, Jaguar "British Villains" Commercial
Genre: Dress Up, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Male-Female Friendship, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Smut, a little more than less, more or less PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 15:39:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader and Hiddles, both actors, have been close friends for some time, (not as close as the reader would’ve liked, though) and so he is the first choice for the reader to ask to accompany her to an important red-carpet event.  And of course, help her pick a proper dress for the occasion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A red carpet date

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tess.
> 
> (y/n) = your name  
> (h/c) = hair colour
> 
> Also, note that this is my first F/M smut ever.

"What? A premiere? Why the fuck am I supposed to go to a premiere of a movie I know nothing about?" you were on the verge of shouting into your phone - your publicist was on the other side of the line, informing you about the fact that tonight, you were supposed to attend a premiere of some horror movie, starring Daniel Radcliffe. A classic, red-carpet thing: you would show up, sign a few photos, watch the movie and then say something nice about it to the journalists. A wasted evening, in your opinion - you didn't even like horrors that much.

"Oh, and something else," the voice on the other side of the line cut your way of thinking in half, "you shouldn't come alone."

"For fuck's sake, Jemma, I am a SINGLE person, why couldn't I come alone?"

"Well," Jemma answered, laughing quietly in the phone, "it's a horror, after all; showing up with a good-looking guy or girl whose hand you can hold in the scary moments could raise your publicity quite a lot - also, maybe the media would stop gossiping about you going to end up like a crazy 80-year-old cat lady and all."

"Jesus," you sighed, "alright, then. Thanks for informing me so soon," you added, with a spike of irony to your voice - the premiere was held at 10 p.m. and it was half past nine a.m. already - and hung up. You might have had a whole day to prepare, but you needed to find someone to come with you. "Bloody London," you cursed, "I don't know anyone who lives here- oh!" you yelped when you realized that you actually DID know a person who lived in London. You unlocked the screen of your phone quickly and type in a message:

**\- Ciao, bello! Are you in London at the moment, by any chance?**

The reply came almost immediately:

**\- Have you been drinking? Also, yes. Why?**

You chuckled and replied:

**\- I HAVE NOT! Well... not yet. Jemma just told me I needed to attend a horror premiere tonight and I need a "date". Are you free tonight at 10 p.m.?**

**\- Yup, I've got a day off today. Shall I reserve it for you?**

**\- It would definitely be nice if you did. Could you come over to help me pick out a dress later?**

**\- "Later" meaning around lunchtime? Since the screening is at 10, I suppose ten hours could be just enough for you to get ready. ;-)**

**\- Oi, don't be mean! But yeah, half past twelve or so works good for me. I'll order pizza. :)**

**\- I'll be there, then.**

\-----------------

Your pizza had arrived at 12:20. You've only managed to make tea for you and your guest, and the doorbell rang.

"I'll be right there!" you yelled and ran to open the door. And here he was, in all his glory: the best friend you've had in all your acting years, handsome as always, with slightly longer facial hair than usual, wearing a white t-shirt and ripped jeans, and holding a clothes hanger with a black dust cover on it - his suit for tonight.

"Thomas," you greeted him with a wide smile on your face as he pulled you in into a hug and kissed you on the cheeks, "it's so nice to see you again. How are you?"

"It couldn't be better, love," Tom answered as he put the clothes hanger on the rack in the small hall of your flat, "how about you?"

You had to laugh. "All this politeness of you Brits," you smiled, "I'm great, thank you for asking. Also, pizza came about ten minutes before you so we are ready to eat. Find yourself a place on the couch, I'll bring the tea." Tom laughed at your horrible adaptation of a London accent and followed you into the living room. You felt his eyes at your body, looking you over. While he sat at the couch, you brought two cups of tea from the kitchen.

You ate your pizzas mostly in silence, talking a little about your and his current work - both being actors, you could always share stories about the directors or fellow actors you both knew - and also about the movie you were about to see later that evening. Showed up that Tom was offered the main part in it, but refused since he was already working on a different movie by the time this one was shot. He then told you a little about how excited he was for the new movie he was currently working on, especially since he got the chance to work with some really bright young actors and it always inspired him.

You just listened and didn't interrupt him; you loved the sound of him talking - and, although you would never admit it, at least not to him, sometimes you even fantasized about his voice whispering dirty things into your ears, moaning your name...

"(y/n)! Are you even paying attention to what am I saying?" he snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Oh," you felt blood rushing to your cheeks, "sorry, I... got a little carried away."

"Well, I was saying, since we finished our meal and our tea, maybe we should get to what am I really here for," he smiled, "which, I believe, would be telling you which dress you look the most beautiful in."

"Don't flatter me, Thomas," you took his hand and pulled him up from the sofa and dragged him into your bedroom. You sat him at the edge of your king-sized bed. "You make yourself comfortable and wait here," you said and laughed at his expression when he sprawled himself all over the bed, looking like a really happy kitten. You then turned around and disappeared in the small room next to your bedroom that you used as a "little" bigger wardrobe.

First, you picked up a knee-length pastel blue dress with cut-out back, pairing it with white high-heeled shoes and white jewelry. "So, what do you think?" you asked Tom as you came back to the bedroom. He turned around on the bed to look at you and smiled.

"You look rather cute, (y/n), but I don't think that's a look you should be aiming for tonight."

You raised an eyebrow at him, but disappeared back into the "wardrobe", this time picking up silver cocktail dress, pairing them up with silver flats. "Is this better?" you asked him.

You felt his gaze wandering all over your body - you knew well enough that the tight-fitting dress looked really flattering on you, making your legs seem ultra long. "Now now," he smirked, "that's better, but still not something I would pick for a horror movie. Horrors are dark and bloody, darling. You should dress for the occasion," he finished his sentence.

"Well then," you smiled at him, a challenging look in your eyes, "maybe you should pick something for me."

"If you wish," he gave you a sly smile and went to the room you had all your clothes in. After some time he came back out. "I put the clothes and shoes and jewelry for you on the shelf next to the mirror," he said, "try it on."

You felt slightly suspicious, but went in anyway. There truly was a dress, a pair of REALLY HIGH heels and a set of black bracelets on the shelf. You changed into the clothes, eyeing yourself in the mirror: the dress was by Oscar de la Renta, a model called Destiny - it was black, figure-fitting, with a plunging v-neck that showed off the curves of your cleavage, and had a front slit, making you afraid that if you made a step longer than necessary, people could probably see up your private parts. Paired with the bracelets and the Louboutin high heels that were mostly black but red at the bottom, it made for an outfit that you would probably never pick out yourself, but it was definitely fit for a red-carpet event like this one.

"Uhm," you voiced, unsure whether you liked the way it looked on you or not, "Tom, could you come here?"

"Of course, (y/n)," his voice sounded really near your right ear and it made you jump and shriek a little.

"Fuck's sake Thomas, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Well," he chuckled a little and you felt his hands at your shoulders all of the sudden, and his breath against your skin between your shoulder and neck, "we're even, then - have you even seen yourself in this dress?" he connected his gaze with yours in the reflection of the mirror, and placed a light kiss just above your collarbone, causing you to gasp and subconsciously tilt your head to the other side to give him a better acces to the curve of your neck.

"Yeah, uhm," you stuttered a little and felt a blush creeping on your face, "that was actually what I wanted to talk to you about, uhm..." you stopped for a moment as the hand that he had on your left shoulder until then moved to your neck to put your long, (h/c) hair aside, and his lips moved to your neck to place soft, butterfly kisses there, "I am, uhm... not really sure that this dress is really for me, I... is this dress really appropriate?" you gasped softly as he kept kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body, over your breasts to your waist, where they stopped the moment the kisses on your neck stopped for a moment as well.

"If you ask me, love," he murmured into the curve of your neck, kissing his way up your neckline and on the jaw just below your earlobe, "I think this is just perfect," he finished and you turned your had to face him, your back still pressed against his chest. You knew you were blushing; you could feel it. You didn't care.

Tom's eyes were dark with lust, his lips opened a little. You couldn't resist kissing him - you connected your lips in a gentle kiss, a one that turned into a more passionate one really quickly. Then, Tom pulled away for a moment - you panicked, thinking that you might have done something wrong - but only to turn you around sou your chest was pressed against his, and then leaned back in to the kiss, his tongue battling with yours as your hands tangled themselves in his hair and you felt him press you against the cold, floor-length mirror, his right hand pulling your left leg up around his hips, eliminating the space between you, shortly followed by your right leg.

You moaned in his lips as you felt his jeans-covered hard-on pressed against your lower belly. You had no idea that you did this to him. His hands moved to your butt, pulling you up against him, carrying you to the bedroom and gently laying you to the bed, not even bothering with taking your dress off, his lips gently placing kisses down the curve of your neck while his hands found your panties. He pulled away from you for a minute to get rid of your underwear, and then crawled between your legs, his tongue playing with your clit, making you moan loudly and grip the sheets of the bed with such a force you were afraid your nails would tear them up.

One of his fingers found your entrace and slipped in, quickly locating your G spot, making you arch your back from the bed. "Tom... I..." you couldn't even form your sentence out of all the pleasure his touches were causing you, and as he added a second finger, you could feel the familiar twitch in your stomach.

"Come for me, baby," he muttered as your walls clenched around his fingers. He then pulled away, licking his fingers, and you pulled yourself up, getting a grip on his t-shirt, and kissed him; you could feel yourself on his lips and the facial hair around, which for some reason made you even more aroused. The kiss heated up quite quickly and after some time, you tugged on his t-shirt and Tom pulled away, pulled it over his head and tossed it on the floor, followed by his jeans and boxers. You watched, fascinated by how much more muscular he has gotten since you last saw him, as he stripped out of his clothes, found a condom in a pocket of his jeans and put it on, and then got back on top of you on the bed, kissing the spot between your collarbones. Your legs wrapped around his hips and he pressed into you, causing you to clutch your fingernails into his shoulders with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He started moving slowly, moans of pleasure filling the room, both yours and his, as he supported himself only with one of his hands, the other moving down to tease your clit again, his pace quickening. His breathing got quicker and more ragged as your walls clenched around him, feeling your orgasm coming once more. "Oh my god, (y/n)," Tom moaned, the arching of his back and the expression on his face as he came sending you over the edge with him collapsing on top of you, breathing quickly.

Snuggling closer to him on the bed, your head resting on his chest, you had to chuckle.

"Is something funny?" he asked, his hands playing with your ruffled hair.

"No, it's just..." you paused for a moment, thinking, "I was definitely not expecting this."

He laughed, "Well, believe me, this was definitely NOT a one-time thing, love." 


End file.
